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Red - A Paranormal Fairy Tale (Fairy Tale Reboot Book 1) Page 6


  The real big bear lunged at him, grabbing both arms to wrench them behind his back. His face twisted in pain. “Hurry,” he gasped.

  I nodded, and spoke the spell reversal.

  The not-so-big bear was shrinking. Smoke poured from him, and fur pushed through his skin. The wolf writhed in the big man’s grip, twisting its head, trying to bite. The muzzle wrinkled back, wilting like a flower, and started drizzling away. Then it was Jack—leering, the skin of his face pulled tight across his skull.

  At once, the druid was gripping an armful of ash. It fell to the floor, releasing clouds of dust.

  And he fell with it.

  “Hey!” I knelt next to him and shook his shoulder. The silver fire had vanished from the runes, and I didn’t know whether that was good, or bad. “Come on, you can’t die now,” I said. “We won.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Oh, no.” I shook him again and felt for a pulse.

  As my fingers brushed his throat, he drew a small, quick breath—and grabbed my wrist, so fast I hardly saw him move. His eyes were still closed. “Don’t touch me,” he said.

  “Well, I see you’re back to your usual cheery self.” I wrenched my hand away. “By the way, you’re welcome.”

  He opened his eyes. He was almost smiling. “Sorry,” he said. “But that really hurts.”

  “Oh,” I whispered. “Um. Are you…”

  “I’ll be fine.” He clenched his jaw and pushed himself slowly upright. “I’m a druid,” he said. “We heal pretty fast—at least, we’re supposed to.”

  “Right,” I said, even though I didn’t know much about druids. They were natural wizards and liked to hang around near forests. That was about the extent of my knowledge. I really had to study more. “Was Jack a druid, too?”

  “Hell, no.” He glared at the coating of ash on the floor. “He is gone, right? Completely?”

  “Yes,” I said. “He’s dust.”

  Just then, a skittering, clicking sound came from the kitchen. Like claws across the floor.

  We glanced at each other. I started hunting for the dagger, and he hauled himself to his feet with a groan.

  A pair of red squirrels scurried through the entryway, headed straight for the druid.

  I drew back. “They’re not him,” I said. “Are they?”

  “No.” With a smirk, he leaned down and put a hand out. One of them hopped right into it. He lifted the little creature to his broad shoulder, and the squirrel started chattering away in his ear. His features darkened. When the squirrel stopped, he set it down gently and stalked off toward the kitchen.

  “Wait. What happened?” I called after him.

  “Stay there.”

  Yeah. Like that was going to happen.

  I followed him, and gasped at the ruin that used to be Nana’s kitchen. Whatever fighting they’d done in here had broken most of the dishes, overturned the table, reduced chairs to sticks—and left blood everywhere.

  The druid knelt in front of the sink, ripping out floorboards.

  “What are you doing?” I shouted, pushing my way through the wreckage.

  The first thing I noticed was the white glow seeping out of the floor. And when I got closer, I saw a pair of slippered feet, tied together at the ankles.

  I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob.

  “She’s alive.” With a grunt, he yanked up another floorboard. Nana lay on a thick bed of moondrops—bound, gagged and unconscious. He scooped her into his arms and straightened slowly. “I’ll bring her to the couch,” he said.

  “Thanks.” My voice was barely audible. Fighting back tears, I shoved the wrecked furniture aside to clear a path for him, and returned to the living room on shaking legs.

  While he laid her out and worked on her bonds, I took the cloak off so I could get to my bag. The elixir was still intact—making it about the only thing in the cottage that had survived Jack unscathed. Once the druid had her loose, I knelt next to Nana and pried her mouth open gently. I wasn’t sure how much to give her, so I poured in a bunch and held my breath.

  Her reaction was immediate. She coughed and spluttered, and her eyes flew open to fix on me. She smiled. “Took you long enough, child,” she said in a papery whisper. “What on earth happened to my cottage?”

  The tears I’d been holding back spilled hot down my cheeks. Now that was a Nana-like thing to say. Grinning, I gave her a fierce hug and kissed her forehead. “There was a shapeshifter here,” I said. “He was keeping you under the floorboards. Um, don’t go in the kitchen, okay?”

  “Well. And all this time, I thought I was in my own bed.” Nana sat up slowly and blinked a few times. “How long have I been out?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “A few months, I think.”

  Behind me, the druid made an impatient sound. I’d almost forgotten he was there. “Would’ve been here sooner,” he rumbled. “If you weren’t so damned stubborn.”

  I started to say something back—but Nana gave him The Look. And then she said, “Don’t you curse at my granddaughter, Elias Vail.”

  Chapter 13

  Shockwaves surged through me. At once I was on my feet without realizing it, backing away from him. From both of them. I couldn’t figure out what hurt more—the brief instant of hope and wild joy, or the crushing letdown of absolute certainty. That was not Elias Vail. “Nana,” I said hoarsely. “Did you hit your head on something? He can’t be Elias.”

  She gave me a gentle smile. “Of course he is, child,” she said. “Look at his eyes.”

  With extreme reluctance, I looked.

  The dark cast was gone, and the most stunning blue eyes I’d ever seen looked back at me with familiar warmth. My breath lodged in my throat. I wasn’t sure I could speak.

  Finally, I blurted, “But you’re huge!”

  He laughed. The sound stung my eyes with fresh tears. “Living in the mountains for a decade or so will do that,” he said. “All that fresh air.”

  “But…” My muscles went rubbery. I staggered to the couch and sat down hard next to Nana. “The mountains?” I whispered. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I was,” he said. “At least, it was close. I was dying, and Dad…” His jaw clenched visibly. “He brought me to the mountain mage. Magic was the only way I’d survive, and the mage promised he’d not only heal me, but make me stronger. That’s what these did.” He touched the seared runes. “But they came with a price. Dad’s death…and my life bound to his.”

  “Jack,” I said in a broken voice.

  “That’s him. At least, it was.” He smiled. “Now I’m free. Thanks to you, Red.”

  “You knew,” I said. “Didn’t you? That’s why you let me in.”

  He nodded. “A couple times I wasn’t sure. You weren’t acting like the Red I knew, so I thought maybe you were Jack, screwing with my head some more. He enjoyed that.”

  “Elias.” I still couldn’t get used to the idea that this big, gruff, muscle-bound shaggy man was my shy guy. My living ghost. “Why didn’t you just tell me who you were?”

  “I couldn’t.” He scowled fiercely and pointed to a mark near his ear that looked like a backwards, pointed B. “He laid this one on me before he forced me down here with him. It kept me from revealing my name. He wanted to make sure the villagers feared me, so I’d never be able to come home.” Sorrow replaced the scowl. “It worked. With him running around in my form, killing animals and threatening everyone, I’m not welcome here.”

  “Nonsense.”

  The stern word came from Nana. We both stared at her, and she said, “You’ll want to take over your father’s role as forest guardian, won’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said slowly. “But…”

  “Then it’s settled. I’ll tell the villagers what happened, and they’ll welcome you back with open arms.”

  “I don’t think it’ll be that easy, Nana Bishop,” he said. “Jack did terrible things. He—”

  She flapped a hand. “I’m a witch, chi
ld. When I speak, people listen.” She winked at me. “Or else.”

  “She’s right.” I stood and walked over to Elias. “You belong here,” I said. “I know how much you love these woods. I have to say, forest guardian sounds like the perfect job for you.”

  Nana cleared her throat. “Speaking of family legacies,” she said with a glint in her eyes. “I’m not getting any younger, you know. It’s time I passed on my duties here in the village to the next generation.”

  I frowned. “I don’t think Mom wants to leave the city.”

  “Not your mother, child.” Nana chuckled. “I love her dearly, but we get along so much better with our own space.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a smile. “I can understand that.”

  Nana raised an eyebrow. “Do you understand that I mean you?”

  “Oh.” The idea of staying here hadn’t even crossed my mind. All at once, it seemed like the best idea in the world. The right one. But with one condition. “Do you think we could run some electricity out here?” I said.

  “Aurora, darling.” Nana shook her head. “You don’t have to stay in the forest. A witch is not her cottage.” She looked around and grimaced. “That’s a good thing for me, too. What a mess. I’ve got a lot of work to do here.” With that, she swung her feet to the floor and stood.

  I started for her, afraid she’d collapse. “Nana, I don’t think you should be up and around just yet.”

  “Oh, you sound like your mother. I’m just fine.” She hugged me with surprising strength, and I squeezed back. “Home is where you hang your heart,” she whispered, and drew back. “Now, I’m going to see what’s happened to my kitchen. You watch your tongue, young Master Vail.” She tossed a wink at Elias.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  Nana tottered off toward the kitchen, and I turned to Elias with a broad smile. “Well, I guess I need a place to stay around here,” I said. “Got any ideas?”

  He smiled back. “I think the village inn has a vacancy.”

  “I don’t know. Sixty a night adds up fast.”

  With a low growl, he caught me around the waist and swept me off my feet. My breath left in a rush. “I’ll get you a discount,” he said. “I know the owner.”

  “Yeah?” I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. “Who is he?”

  “Ryan Gosling.”

  A small smile played on my lips. “And does Mr. Gosling want me around his place?”

  “No,” he said in rough tones. “But Elias Vail does.”

  I shivered against him. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

  “Yes, I do.” He slid me down gently until my feet touched the floor, but he didn’t let go. “Red…you were only fourteen when I left. That means I had to wait eleven years to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  He answered with his lips on mine.

  Heat flooded me instantly. I wrapped my arms around as much of him as I could, and kissed him back with everything I was. For all the years we’d lost, and all those we had coming—together. I knew exactly what Nana meant.

  This was home.

  About the author

  Sonya Bateman lives in Central New York—the big part of the state that is not New York City—with her husband, son, and cats. She despises winter and isn’t particularly fond of wearing socks. Her work includes paranormal romance and urban fantasy, with a few contemporary romances coming in the near future.

  She also writes dark thrillers under the pen name S.W. Vaughn.

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  Boring Copyright Information

  Copyright © 2013 by Sonya Bateman

  Cover design by Sonya Bateman

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author / publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

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